Chapter 1

Joseph

Bill Henderson and I walked up to the front door of the home where my friends Harry, Brenda, and their kids, Eva and Gord, lived. Brenda opened the door, asking us to come in. It was immediately evident that she had been crying. Stepping into the living room, we saw a house in a bit of a shambles. A couple pieces of furniture were broken, and there was a fist-sized hole in the wall.

My heart sank as I took in the scene. “What on earth happened here?” I asked.

“It’s Gord. He’s totally out of control. He’s gotten involved in drugs and went ballistic when we wouldn’t give him the money to pay off a dealer who’s after him. This is why we phoned you.”

“Where is he now?” I asked.

“He ran away and left his phone behind, so we have no way of getting in touch with him. We don’t know what to do,” she said as the tears rolled down her face.

Bill knew exactly what to do. He was the police detective who caught Amy’s killer. Amy was my first wife. We had only been married a short time when she was brutally murdered. Her death closely paralleled my mother’s.

At this point, Bill took over, introducing himself to Brenda and Harry, who had just come downstairs. “Do you know the name of the drug dealer who supplied your son?” he asked. When she shook her head, he continued. “You have no idea where you son may have gone? Does he have any friends who might shed some light on this situation?”

“Gord has dropped all his old friends and never talks much about anyone he associates with,” Harry answered. There was an edge to his voice, one that wasn’t usually there.

“This is typical behavior in this kind of circumstance,” Bill said. “How long has this been going on? Can you give me as many details as possible, including age, his computer passwords, and anything you feel may be relevant? Just write it on a sheet of paper and show me to his room, please.”

“I’ll show him up to Gord’s room if you like,” I said, at which Harry nodded his head.

Up the stairs we went and into a room I had been in many times before. This used to be a boy who was pleasant to be around and respected his parents. Things changed dramatically, right after the first time he got drunk with a few boys from his school. This road had been especially difficult for my friends, and I felt so sorry for them.

Bill found the cell phone that was left behind and with very little effort managed to access the information in it. The two of us read a series of texts between Gord and someone called Jimmy. They spoke of money owed for drugs received. The amount of money was, for a boy in Gord’s position, quite high and amounted to several thousand dollars. It would be difficult for him to pay this off.

There also were several texts coming from and going to a person with very strange ideas. There was a phone number attached, and Bill said he would investigate the person. The drug dealer would also be visited and questioned as to Gord’s whereabouts.

Bill sat down at the computer and attempted to open it as well, but was stumped. Harry came into the room, handing over a sheet of paper with writing on it and was asked if he knew the password.

“I haven’t been allowed to touch his things in quite some time. If you need to take it with you, please do,” he said to the detective. “We just want to find him.”

“How did your living room get into the condition it is,” Bill asked.

“My son asked for a considerable amount of money, and when we told him no, he became quite hostile before he ran away,” Harry said with his head hanging down.

Bill continued his search of the room and only came up with a few more items of interest. One of the things he held in his hand was an information pamphlet. He cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow. “This is strange. The phone number on the pamphlet is the same as on the phone text. It looks like Gord may have been recruited by a cult leader named Jeremy Baulthus. I’ve heard of this guy before. He and his sect prey on confused kids, who have gotten themselves into drug trouble, and make some wild promises of enlightenment, enticing them to join,” he said. “This is not good, not good at all.”

With this, he picked up the computer and pocketed the cell phone. When he got to the front door, he said to the tearful parents, “I’ll get the department techs to look into the computer, and I’ll handle this case personally.”

Harry managed to get out a thank you and asked me to stay for a moment. When we were alone, Harry took me aside and, when he was sure Brenda couldn’t hear, said, “There are things about you that I don’t know, but I do know that you have helped us before. You dealt with some pretty harsh people for us, and although you wouldn’t tell us how, you took care of them. If there is anything that you can do, please do it for us.”

“If I am able to do anything, without Bill finding out, I will. For now, we’ll have to let him handle things. He is a very capable man, so give him a chance. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s him.”

With this, I left to head back home. This was not a problem I needed. I just came back from dealing with the man responsible for the death of Kathleen, my second and last wife. I’d made the decision to never get involved with a woman again. Almost everyone that I had ever cared about had been murdered.

Sometimes I thought about the things that made me what I was. I wouldn’t wish these things to happen to my worst enemy. The life-altering events that shaped me into a murderer, and worse, still haunted me.

Harry was right, he didn’t know much about me, if he did, he would never have had me in his company again, and no one else would either. Part of me lived in the shadows, a part that could never be revealed.

© 2018 by Leonardus G. Rougoor